Why do you love me?
by AmorLorna
Summary: In which Tony cannot formulate why Steve would love him. But does he need to? POST- Avengers Assemble, but before Age of Ultron. Not really part of any film in between, just the musings and revelations of a genius. Oh and some pure, unadulterated fluff, and love, and all that fun gooey stuff. ONE-SHOT.


_In which Tony cannot formulate why Steve would love him. But does he need to?  
_

 _..._

 **Okay people, this is my first pairing with canon characters. I usually write with OCs mostly because that's how I imagine things when I listen to music and partly because I've always had this inner concern at writing something focused on actual characters because what if I write them wrong? What if they become OOC? What if everyone will judge me and so on, you get the picture. These fears are silly though because I still include characters alongside my OCs of course, but the point is they are not the _focus_. This time, well, to put it crudely, fuck it. I've done it. And it's not angsty or depressing like I'm used to, no one has raging addictions or is insane. This is fluff. And love. And cheese. With a possible side of corn. **

**Be prepared boys and girls for what you are about to read.**

* * *

Tony was a genius, that much was understood. But for the love of him, there was one formula he couldn't seem to put his finger on.

Why did Steve love him?

It's something he's been able to take for granted since they were together, he just sort of accepted it, because Tony loved Steve too much to really think in depth about it, what with being dispersed in the, "honeymoon period", so to speak.

They were way past that now, and had been going steady for nearly nine months. They'd only just confessed their love for each other, despite both feeling it for months before hand, and since then well… Tony has been caught up in his whirlpool of thoughts.

He just didn't understand it. And that bugged the Hell out of him.

Tony was a well-known player, too much money for any sense, an arrogant genius, and he could quite easily get under anyone's skin if he wanted to.

Tony didn't really see himself in the light others did, he tended to only see what made him so great and define them as flaws.

He didn't know why he did it, to be honest all his arrogance was a front most the time.

Steve obviously loved him for some reason, if the way he looked at him was any indication, or the way he kissed him, touched him, made love with him…

Tony had to shake his head, or he would probably cut his finger off any second.

He decided to push his queries to the back of his mind while worked, he could pester Steve later.

…

Steve is just walking through the Tower, on his way to go distract Tony, when JARVIS speaks up.

"Captain Rogers, sir has left his lab and is making dinner,"

Steve smiles in surprise, well that's new, "Thanks, JARVIS," he says and changes direction.

When he gets to the spacious living area and kitchen, he can't help but stand there for a second, his arms across his chest as he watches Tony work in the kitchen.

A smile, one of amusement and content spreads across his face. He couldn't be happier, being with Tony was more than he could ask for, and without ever wanting to jinx what they had, he usually settled for just being grateful. He was way too lucky.

If you had asked him three years ago, when they first met, if he would ever consider being with someone like Tony Stark, that answer would have been a firm NO. But if you had asked him after Tony had directed a nuclear missile through a wormhole into space, when he sacrificed himself to save an entire city, when Steve had thought he would never see that playful smirk again or have that banter that he secretly enjoyed, his answer would have been a swaying maybe.

When he called for Tony but received no response, he could honestly say he had never been more scared for anything in his life than the thought of Tony not returning.

Even crashing his plane into the ice all those decades ago didn't even compare.

It was then he knew he had some feelings brewing for the genius, he didn't quite know what they were at the time, but it was not long before they began to grow.

He couldn't believe it took him two years to even make a move.

But now they were together, had been for nine months, and he was so unbelievably happy. The others couldn't stop joking about Steve becoming too much of a sap since he and Tony got together.

The grin on his face grew wider at that. Yes, he was a sap, he was a lovesick fool and he loved it.

He shoves off the wall, his arms falling to his sides, and he walks slowly up to his lover whose back is conveniently turned to him.

When he reaches him, he wraps his arms around his waist, and turns his face into the neck placing a peck there, and breathes him in.

He hums low in his throat as he takes in everything that is purely Tony, his firm but soft frame, his scent, the strength and intelligence that just radiates from him…

"He-llo," he murmurs into the neck, emphasising the two syllables.

He feels Tony press back against him, "Hey," he replies, his voice not all there with his concentration firmly on the process at hand.

Steve can't help but a chuckle, his hands stroking around Tony's middle, before meeting and clasping together, "Never thought I'd see the day when Tony Stark would _actually_ cook, have you even set foot in this kitchen before?" he jokes. It's true though, Steve always cooked, he loved it, Tony on the other hand, not so much.

He feels Tony shrug under the chin that is now resting on his shoulder, blue eyes taking in the surreal moment, "Better late than never,"

"I don't know how I should feel about this, really, I mean, scared? Anxious? Nervous?" Steve pushes. He loves picking at Tony sometimes, not that Tony minds, he can give as good as he gets.

"Well, I'll say you should probably fear for your life, if you're not poisoned then it'll be a miracle," he quips, amusement in his tone. Steve can hear the smile in his voice.

Steve grins, his hold tightening, "I have faith in you," he says, trying to sound earnest.

He can practically hear the eyebrow rise at that, "Oh, you sounded perfectly reassuring only a moment ago,"

Steve just presses another kiss into his neck, god he needed to kiss him right now.

"Can you turn around long enough to give me real hello?" he says, his voice lower, and his hands move to Tony's hips, rubbing gently.

Tony hums, "Maybe,"

"It's not going to burn or combust in the next few minutes, you can spare a moment," he replies, an underlying urge in his voice.

Before he can blink, Tony spins in his arms and then his lips are on his.

Tony has one hand Steve's neck, the other in his hair, pulling him as close as he can. Steve has both hands still on the shorter man's hips, gripping tightly, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hip bones.

One hand travels up, wrapping around his waist, half embracing Tony to his body.

God, he couldn't ever get enough of this man, his scent, his taste, in that moment, overpowered him, taking him over and fuelling the passion in his bones.

Despite the urges within them, the kiss is surprisingly gentle.

Their tongues lace together, exploring the other's mouth with leisure, tasting each other and feeling the body pressed against them.

They haven't seen each other all day, but _damn_ , it feels so much longer than that.

They pull apart, both gasping for breath, their eyes locked on each other, and Tony nearly rolls his eyes at the expression that greets him.

Steve has the dopiest, happy, love struck look on his face, all set with the lopsided smile and glowing blue eyes. Tony still can't believe that look was meant only for him.

Steve wraps both arms around Tony's waist, pulling him flush against his chest; Tony's arms join around his shoulders.

"I love you," Steve says.

Tony can't help smiling at that, he never can, and Steve loves it. The smile is truly beautiful, one reserved for only moments like these, his brown eyes shine, "Ditto," he replies, raising his eyebrows in amusement. He had of course said the actual words, but more often than not he would reply with ditto. Or even just say ditto to Steve, and he would know what he meant. It was a private, well, joke, almost, between them.

Steve can't help but chuckle, and kisses him softly, humming in content.

"I should really check on the food," Tony mumbles against his lips.

Steve smiles, kissing him again, "You really should," he replies in between kisses.

"I honestly should," Tony presses.

But Steve doesn't let up, "I know," he says, still pressing kisses into the soft lips beneath his, his grip on the man unrelenting.

"Steve," he mumbles with a moan in his voice as the taller man presses their bodies ever closer together, their arousals gradually hardening.

"I don't smell burning, nor do I hear bubbling, it's fine," he says as he trails kisses down Tony's neck, stopping at the pulse point and suckling slightly, earning a moan from the man in his arms as he melts. That's a particular weak spot for the older man.

"No, Steve, I want- to… I want to do it properly," he gasps out, almost whimpering, as one hand trails down to his behind, squeezing.

Steve pulls away, looking into Tony's eyes and pouting exaggeratedly, "Fine," he huffs.

Tony rolls his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before escaping the long limbs, and focusing once again on the cooking.

…

So, the meal didn't kill ether of them. Actually, Steve loved it, and there were left overs which he happily wolfed down.

The building of a man had an appetite, and in more ways than one.

After eating he couldn't hold it in any longer, and before Tony could blink he was being carried towards the elevator.

He still doesn't know how they made it without, you know, falling over, because his arms and legs were wrapped around Steve, and their lips were locked. Steve was walking blindly, but he managed it.

And that is how they ended up lying bed, sated and happy, wrapped up in each other.

Tony is lying splayed across Steve, legs tangled with the longer ones, his upper body sprawled over Steve's chest, and arms spread. His left hand found its way to Steve's right and Steve's spare is busy drawing patterns softly against Tony's back.

Then earlier thoughts once again occur in Tony's mind. Why does Steve love him?

He doesn't know how to phrase such a question without sounding like a needy teenage girl.

He frowns to himself, sighing quietly as he ponders that rather annoying conundrum.

Maybe Steve has gained the ability to read minds and will make Tony's job half as easy?

"Tony,"

For a moment Tony believes that his hope has come true.

"Yes," he answers after a moment.

"You're thinking,"

Tony frowns again, unsure of how to respond.

"Uh, yes… I was, I am," He answers again, wondering just how Steve guessed that. Or why he would point it out.

He feels Steve chuckle, "And now you're wondering how I knew," he says, and Tony is sure that Steve is most definitely reading his mind.

"Okay, how are you doing that?" Tony asks, and shifts on the bed so he is beside Steve, leaning on his elbow.

Steve's blue eyes glitter playfully, "How am I doing what?" he asks, raising a single brow.

Tony narrows his eyes, "Reading my mind,"

Steve barks a laugh, "I'm not, I just know you," he says.

"So, because you know me, you know when I'm thinking," he ponders this knew knowledge for a second, "That could have been a lucky guess, people are thinking all the time, there is no one time of absolute nothing in someone's mind, therefore; thinking," he states and Steve rolls his eyes.

"It wasn't a lucky guess," he says, and his eyes once again fall on Tony.

"Fine. Explain," he demands, his brown eyes daring.

Steve's blue eyes become serious, and he has Tony captured in the stare, "Well, firstly, you're breathing changes, and when you're lying half on top of me it's hard not to notice," he pauses, and Tony narrows his eyes again before nodding, Steve continues, "Secondly, you're body becomes… stiff I suppose is the best way to describe it, you become so preoccupied that you pay no mind to your movements, hence they stop, or they slow down, and then your hand tightened in mine, and you even hummed quietly at your thoughts, which is common occurrence I'll have you know, and sometimes you mumble a comment to yourself, or spout a word, but…" he fades off and shrugs, "That's how I know when you're thinking, even without looking at you,"

Tony is frozen for a moment, and he can only lay there staring into Steve's eyes. Yes, they had been together for nearly nine months but he… He hadn't expected Steve to know him _that_ well. Christ, he knew when Tony was thinking, _thinking_ ; something that inherently happens within the mind, and so out of sight from the people around you, or not, as this case may be.

He probably knew Tony better than he knew himself, and the genius wasn't sure if he should be elated or nervous about that development.

Tony clears his throat, and before he can find his voice Steve is on him.

Their lips meet, and Tony lies back against the pillows, his hands gripping Steve's hips as Steve's own gently grasp his face.

They kiss gently for a moment, before Tony pulls away; he has to ask, "How do you know me so well? Even after all this time, I mean it's…" his voice fades, and he frowns looking away. Wow. He doesn't think he's ever been lost for words before.

Steve catches his eyes, holding Tony there, and smiles gently, "I know," he says, and Tony knows he doesn't need to formulate words for what he tried to explain, Steve knows. He just _knows_ … And God, does that scare Tony.

Steve shifts his weight, so he's leaning on one arm beside Tony's head, instead of crushing the man beneath him, and answers the other question, "And I suppose, I don't really know _why_ or _how_ I can tell when you're thinking, but I know I love you, I love everything about you, I pay more attention to you than is probably healthy, and, I'll admit, half the time it is a guessing game," he finishes, responding to Tony's earlier claims, and flashing a pearly white smile.

Tony can't help but laugh, a real laugh from the depths of your stomach, with the gasping breaths, little snorts and crinkly eyes all in between.

He doesn't need to know why Steve loves him. Not in the explicit sense anyway. The fact that Steve can pick out little signs from Tony's behaviour and define them as him _thinking_ , well, that says a lot in Tony's book.

For once, why ruin something with over-analysing, with reasons behind every feeling or action? He doesn't need all the answers now, because he can learn them along the way, that's what a relationship is right?

Oh, God, is he becoming an actual real _grown up_?

Steve joins him in the laughter, he doesn't even know why Tony is laughing, but Tony loves that he can bring this out in him.

Maybe he is becoming a grown up, at last, in a healthy relationship.

A hand reaches up to Steve's face, and he kisses him, smiles on their faces.

"Ditto,"


End file.
